


Interlude: Absence

by angel_deux



Series: Won't You Let Us Wander [5]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Cassian's vanishing act explained, Draven continues to be a source of drama, F/M, FIx It, hopefully, slight mention of torture, the continued misadventures of Rogue One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_deux/pseuds/angel_deux
Summary: Leia isn't happy with Cassian's decision to leave Hoth without speaking to Jyn. But there's nothing to do for it now, especially when Cassian runs into some trouble on his own.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I would just like to apologize both for the fact that the last chapter was such a bummer, and also because this oneshot is ALSO a bummer. But thank you so much to everyone who's reading this. I have a lot more planned and I'm so glad you all are on this journey with me.

 

_Why didn’t you tell her you were leaving?”_

Leia’s voice hadn’t been angry. It had been gentle and understanding. That was almost worse. It meant that he was too obvious. It meant that Leia knew that whatever his feelings for Jyn were, they were stronger than they should have been.

Cassian would have preferred anger. He would have preferred annoyance, reprimand, a reminder that his duty was to the Rebellion, not to the woman whose father he was once tasked with killing. Cassian could deal with anger. With disappointment.

His fear was that when he got back to Hoth, when he saw Jyn again, it wouldn’t be anger he would see.

Anger would be easier. It would be the hurt that would break him.

Now, of course, his fears are more pressing: now, he wonders if he’ll ever see her again at all.

“Get back to the ship,” he says. “If that door opens, you go. Deliver the message.”

“Cassian…”

“K, _now_ ,” Cassian says, breaking away from his friend.

K-2SO listens.

_If Jyn was here, she would not have listened_. _They would have something to use against you_.

His inner voice sounds too much like Draven. He dashes the thought aside, even though he knows it’s not wrong.

It doesn’t matter, anyway. Jyn _isn’t_ here. And he has only seconds to try and get out of this.

He hears the clomping footsteps of K-2SO retreating, sprinting across the hanger. Cassian runs in the opposite direction, toward the computer. All he has to do is turn off the security alarm. All he has to do is enter the access code, overwrite the commands, convince whoever’s on the other side of the intercom that it was a silly mistake, that his droid triggered the alarms by accident, that everything’s fine here.

But just as he reaches it, just as he’s pulling off his gloves to start the sequence, the doors slide open. The Stormtroopers on the other side are led by Admiral Raleigh himself, commander of this Star Destroyer. Cassian slides to a halt, raising his hands in surrender.

“Cuff him,” Raleigh says, sounding bored, letting two of his troopers walk around him. “Take his jacket, first. This man is no bounty hunter. He’s a Rebel spy.”

_Sloppy_ , Draven says.

The Stormtrooper knocks Cassian to the ground, and the shock wears off, but it’s too late to do much more than fruitlessly struggle.

He knocks one back, kicks the other, but it’s only a matter of time before he’s flat on his stomach, arms wrenched behind him as one of the troopers grabs his jacket, yanks it so hard the worn leather tears.

_The lullaby_.

It’s gone, kicked away with the remains of his jacket, and Cassian is hauled to his feet.

Behind him, the small ship, the ship he arrived in, whines to life, and K-2SO is gone.

“I must admit, I’m _very_ interested to talk to you,” Raleigh says, stepping close, his pale face looking sallow and ghostly in the too-bright overhead lights.

The alarms cut out, leaving only silence, leaving only the sound of Cassian’s heaving breaths.

He looks at the ground. At Raleigh’s feet. He does not show anger. He does not show despair. He schools his face into the cool mask that has hidden every emotion since he was old enough to learn that particular skill.

“Search him carefully,” Raliegh says, unaffected. “They’re wily, these Rebels. Then take him to holding. We’ll find out what he knows. And send a squadron after that ship. I want it destroyed.”

_Sloppy_ , Draven says. _You’ll get us all killed._

* * *

**Before**

“Why didn’t you tell her you were leaving?”

Cassian, sitting at the war table with his datapad, looks up at Leia, biting back a defensive reaction that wouldn’t have been entirely fair. Leia is nervous about this assignment, for obvious reasons: one of her father’s most trusted advisors, a man she had known since childhood, is rumored to be alive, held on the Star Destroyer Afflictor. A contact from Coruscant reached out to one of Draven’s people, delivered the information. It hasn’t yet been confirmed. That’s why Cassian is here. It would mean a great deal for Counselor Darra to be retrieved. The man has decades of experience, has more insight into Bail Organa than perhaps even his daughter.

And more than that, it would mean that Leia has not yet lost _everyone_ from her home planet. Cassian has enough shaky memories of his own family to recognize the importance of that.

“I meant to,” he answers, looking back down at the file. “When did you last speak to Darra?”

“Before the destruction of Alderaan. That’s not good enough.”

“And aside from this source’s information, do you have any reason to believe the Empire has him?”

“No. That’s why Draven wants to send you. Did you hear me?”

“I did. I’m not commenting.”

“You realize that _not commenting_ is exactly the reason you wound up leaving Jyn thinking…well, I’m not sure _what_ she thinks. But I know it isn’t good.”

“Can we have one conversation at a time, please?”

“Yes, and I vote we have the one _I_ started.”

Cassian sighs, setting the datapad back on the table.

“You don’t need to do this,” he says.

“I know I don’t. I _want_ to. If I had known you hadn’t talked to her yet…”

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine. I should have…” He scrubs a hand through his beard, trying not to think about Jyn’s lips pressing to his, delicate, barely a whisper. “I was a coward. I’ll deal with it when I get back.”

Silence for a moment, but he knows that isn’t going to work. Still, he stays stubbornly quiet until Leia speaks.

“Something happened between you on that assignment, didn’t it?”

“We aren’t talking about this.”

“I’m gonna go ahead and revoke my previous encouragement for you to stop treating me like your superior. Treat me like your karking superior and tell me, Andor.”

Cassian is only saved from having to either answer her or blatantly disrespect her by the timely arrival of Draven and Mon Mothma.

* * *

_Something happened between you_.

_I’m not going anywhere_.

* * *

**Now**

Admiral Raleigh has been recently promoted, entirely due to the recent shortage of higher-ups caused by the destruction of the Death Star. Cassian knows this from his file, but he would have guessed it even if he had no idea. Raleigh is too eager. Admirals don’t question prisoners. Admirals don’t have that gleam in their eye, that hunger to have _more_. If Cassian was in the mood to speak, he would point out that admirals can’t get much farther in the Empire. He would point out that Raleigh won’t get any farther.

But it’s better if he doesn’t say anything. Better if Raleigh learns absolutely nothing about him. So Cassian stares down at his hands, clenched in his lap. Bound with chains that tether him to the wall of his cell.

“You know we’ll make you talk eventually. That’s why you carry these around with you. Just in case.”

Raleigh opens his hand, reveals two small, white pills.

Cassian has been doing this long enough that he knows the sign of a good interrogator. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak.

_He’s going to ask me why I carry two pills_.

“Why do you carry two?”

Cassian has no reaction. He doesn’t even look up.

_I carry two because I could never ask Jyn to carry one. Because when we leave the ship together, when she runs into danger, I know that something like this could happen. I know that she could be caught, tortured. I know that she would keep her tongue as long as she could, but it would come out eventually. She would spill the Rebellion’s secrets. I need to carry two, because I hate myself enough to know that I would insist we both take them, rather than risk losing the war._

“It’s interesting. Your partner seemed to be a KX series security droid.” _Seemed to be. He’s not sure, and he didn’t brag about destroying the ship. K escaped. Thank the force for small favors._ “Old model. Reprogrammed, no doubt, to betray its makers. An accomplishment. Those are tricky inventions. But the pill wouldn’t be for them. That tells me you have another partner. Someone who isn’t with you on _this_ trip, but someone you must care for a great deal.”

Cassian’s hand twitches. An almost unnoticeable thing, but he doesn’t have hope that Raleigh missed it.

_You fell_. Her eyes gleaming in the dim light, inches from him. _I_ was _afraid._

_Something happened between you._

“Very well. I suppose you wouldn’t be much of a spy if you offered up much in the way of information. But the droids will be prepped soon. And you _will_ talk, then.”

Raleigh waits for something more. Watches Cassian with the kind of interest that makes it even _more_ clear that Raleigh is an ambitious man who thinks this capture will endear him to someone more important.

If only he knew what role Cassian played in the destruction of the Death Star. If only he knew that Cassian was the one who wrested the information from Tivik, who brought Bodhi back from the brink of permanent insanity. Who saved Erso’s daughter on Jedha and brought them all the message that Galen Erso risked everything to send. Who shot Orson Krennic and enabled Jyn to beam the plans directly to the Alliance.

_Your whole Empire is crumbling because of me_ , he thinks. Satisfied, in a way that burns inside him. _Nothing you take from me will undo the worth of that._

And he will make it so, _so_ very hard for them. When they kill him, it will be with a scoff of disappointment. The iron taste of failure.

 Then again, he doubts he’ll be here long enough for Raleigh to reach the end of his patience. The Rebellion will have other plans.

* * *

Jyn looks small in Cassian’s coat. She looks small with her knees tucked up to her chest. With her blanket drawn over her lap and her chin resting on her knees and her eyes wide.

She looks small and young and Bodhi doesn’t know what he can do to protect her.

_I had a daughter_ , Galen said once. And later, _I couldn’t help her._

“I don’t need you to do this, Bodhi,” she says, gently.

“I’m not…I’m not good at many things, but I _am_ good at knowing people. I know Cassian. I _know_ him. And I think he was telling the truth.”

“I don’t doubt that he was,” Jyn admits. Her voice is too quiet to be believable, though, Bodhi thinks.

“He’ll be back, and he’ll explain.”

“He _left_ , Bodhi. He left without telling me anything.”

“He tried to stop you.”

“After he walked away from me.”

“I think he didn’t know what to say.”

“ _Anything_ would have been nice.”

_Just like she believed Saw Gerrera_.

He doesn’t regret saying that, not really. He wishes it was a less apt comparison. But still he finds himself in this position of trying to defend Cassian, even though he’s angry too.

Cassian should have known. He should have _known_ what it would do to Jyn. Bodhi knew!

“He seemed like…” he starts, but he doesn’t really know how to finish that.

“Does it matter how he seemed?” she asks. Her fingers dart out of the sleeves, wiping at her eyes before curling back into fists. She’s furious to show any weakness, even in front of Bodhi. He knows that. “He still left.”

Bodhi has a feeling she’s telling herself as much as she’s telling him.

* * *

(Jyn thinks of Cassian’s kiss following her, thinks of the noise he made in the back of his throat, thinks of the way he held her after, like she was something so precious to him. She thinks of that and thinks she’s not sure of anything anymore, thinks maybe she was wrong all along.)

* * *

**Before**

“Draven’s message.”

Cassian is less than surprised when Leia falls into step with him after the briefing. Despite – or perhaps _because of_ the personal nature of the mission – she wears the same steely smile and has the same manufactured air of unconcern.

“What about the message?” he asks.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

“Did you read it?”

“He specifically told me not to, and I pick my battles with General Draven. That would be a petty battle to pick.”

“So yes, you read it.”

“You know me too well, Cassian.” At his snort of amusement, she makes a frustrated noise of her own. “I’m not a damned Imperial interrogator. You don’t have to give me the silent treatment.”

Cassian stops walking, turning to face Leia with irritation clear on his face.

“Ask a question, and I’ll answer it,” he says.

“General Draven doesn’t have the power to disband your team just because he’s unhappy with losing you in Intelligence.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“And you’re being a pedantic asshole.”

“What do you want me to say?”

As blank as he tries to keep his expression, he knows it isn’t entirely successful. He can tell because Leia softens. Then again, maybe he isn’t the only one who knows the other too well.

“If you refused the mission, what do you think would happen?” At his hesitation, she gently reminds him, “you said you would answer.”

“I regret that now.”

“Cassian…”

“It isn’t about what Draven can do,” Cassian says, short, sharp. “He’s right.”

“In his message?”

“There are things I was trained to do. Things I’m _good_ at doing. Like infiltrating a Star Destroyer to rescue your father’s advisor. Things like that.”

Leia looks away guiltily, though she quickly schools her expression back into blankness.

“There are other spies.”

“Not like me.”

“Modest, aren’t you?”

“Draven taught me. I’m one of the best.”

“Did Draven also teach you to push your friends away? Did he teach you to push your emotions to the side?”

“Yes.”

Annoyed by his casual acceptance of what was supposed to be a dig, Leia throws her hands up.

_If only you knew the things I’ve done for this Rebellion. If only you understood the number of lives I’ve taken, the amount of blood I’ve spilled. You wouldn’t be so quick to call me friend. You wouldn’t be so quick to think I should be anywhere_ near _a person good enough to be called a friend. You and Mothma both. You would look at me so differently if you knew what I have done for you._

“You’re not a machine, Cassian.”

“No, I’m a tool.”

“Well, you’re certainly that.” Pointed, angry. Unlike Cassian, Leia very rarely hides _anything_. “Cassian, look me in the eye and tell me you weren’t happy on Hoth.”

Surprised by that, he knows his expression flickers.

_Let me take care of you for once._

“It’s not about my happiness. It’s about my usefulness.”

“Cassian…” Leia’s expression flickers too, cascades between a dozen different emotions. Pity, mostly. “Draven’s hold on you can’t be the only thing you’re fighting for. It _can’t_.”

“Draven? I’m not doing this for Draven.” He wants to leave it there, wants to walk away, but he can’t. He has to tell her. She has to understand. “This is about _them_. This is about the Rebellion. My team. If I’m needed elsewhere, then I go elsewhere. It’s as simple as that. They get to stay together. Draven still gets to use me. I still get to help the Rebellion in ways I’ve been trained for. It’s the smartest scenario.”

“A win all around,” Leia says, a trifle bitterly. “Except for you.”

_I’m not going anywhere._

“We’ve worked it out. I’ll- I’ll do the missions Draven wants me to do. But the rest of the time…”

“A compromise. Well. How noble of Draven to allow you some freedom.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because you were _happy_ , Cassian. And so was she. You think I don’t notice these things? You think I didn’t see her looking at you? The way you can’t quite face her sometimes, like you’re looking into the heart of a star? I’m not blind, you oaf. Speaking of! Even Chirrut sees it. You didn’t think I was just making idle conversation when I made that crack about you not sleeping with anyone, did you?”

“I suspected. You’re not usually so subtle, though, so I had my doubts.”

“Don’t try to make me laugh. I’m still angry.”

“If I can speak frankly, princess?”

“Cut the princess shit.”

“I’m not the only one who could learn a thing or two about letting people in.”

Leia stares at him with such disgust that he’s sure she’s going to either hit him or demote him on the spot.

Instead, she settles for, “touché, but fuck you _very_ much, Cassian,” and stalks on her way.

* * *

**Now**

_Let me take care of you…_

His head is resting on her chest. Her arms around him. One hand splayed on his back, the other curled around his head, trailing fingers through his hair.

“No one has taken care of me like this,” he says. Last time, he only thought the words. It feels good to speak them aloud.

“I’m here,” she says, lips moving against his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

“I’m impressed.”

Raleigh’s voice cuts through the haze, but Cassian remains still, his head leaning sideways against the wall of his cell. His eyes stay closed. If he tries hard enough, he can feel Jyn’s chest beneath his head. Feel her rising and falling breaths.

_Let me take care of you for once._

“You’ve lasted longer than anyone I’ve ever had the pleasure of questioning.”

He does a passable job at pretending not to be furious, but Cassian can hear the clench of his jaw, the snarl behind his affected polish.

“You must care about them very much.”

_This is for them. The Rebellion. Rogue One._

_Given adequate motivation_ , Draven said once, _a person can withstand anything._

_(Jyn, nestling closer to him in sleep.)_

The Empire will burn because of him.

“Not even your screams had words to them. That’s usually how I get to the heart of a person. When they’re at their lowest, they’ll call for the ones that matter. Not you. Like I said, impressive. But you’re a man with a reprogrammed droid as a partner, so I suppose I should have expected something different. _Challenging._ But all men have their weaknesses.”

_He knows something more. He’s waiting to reveal it._

“I really _don’t_ wish to call in Lord Vader for this, but he may be better at persuading you than I can be.”

Cassian doesn’t mind that Raleigh will be able to sense the tension that drives a spike into his spine at that. _Anyone_ would be afraid. That won’t tell Raleigh anything.

“Maybe then you’ll tell me who _Jyn_ is.”

Cassian keeps his breathing steady. Keeps his eyes closed. His chains, binding him to the wall of his cell, rattle only slightly. He’s clenched his fists more tightly. Raleigh smiles. Cassian isn’t looking at him, but he knows.

“You spoke in your sleep. Not a good habit for a spy.”

_It’s not my habit. Not when I haven’t been tortured. Not when I’m not in pain._

“There are things you could tell me that might not even mean so much. Might not be considered a true betrayal. Things that could end your suffering right now. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

_I’m not going anywhere_.

_I’m sorry, Jyn._

* * *

Bodhi has become like some kind of mynock, adhering to Jyn’s side so firmly that she would probably be annoyed if she didn’t _need_ it so much. He sits by her in the mess. He insists on riding with her on patrols. He teaches her, with a patience she every day wishes she could emulate, everything he knows about what keeps the base running.

He never tries to talk to her about Cassian again, but their absent captain is in too many of their interactions anyway. It doesn’t help that the engineers and scientists, so friendly and oblivious, make jokes about Cassian’s vacation. Make jokes about how he probably took an assignment to Tatooine, Jakku, Mustafar, even. Anywhere to get away from the cold.

Bodhi doesn’t know about everything, but he knows enough to know about the sad knot in her stomach that gets tighter every time someone wonders, full of good intention, what could have possibly driven the captain away so quickly.

“It’s not your fault,” he says once. Fifth day since Cassian has been gone, not that he’s counting. Jyn’s wearing the blue coat she’s now rarely out of, her fingers going a bit white without gloves, pinching two wires tight, trying to maneuver them into place on the console they’ve taken apart for testing.

“Stop it,” she says, looking up at him like a skittish creature, like Bodhi himself, probably.

“I’m just, I’m just saying. It’s not.”

“We aren’t having this conversation now any more than we were having it yesterday, Bodhi.”

“But us not having the conversation doesn’t mean you aren’t having it on your own. In your head. Over and over.” He laughs out a bitter, broken sound. Jyn looks surprised to hear it. Bodhi’s thinking of Cassian on that ridge on Eadu, rifle pointed down at Galen, saying _I’m here. I’m looking_. He’s thinking of turning and running to the shuttle depot. Listening to Cassian even though he _knew_. He knew.

And it isn’t as if Cassian killed Galen, but still. What could have been different if only…?

But no, no. This is exactly what he’s saying to Jyn. It wasn’t his fault, it was Alliance bombs, it was Draven, it was the Emperor and his ambitions and his cruelty that necessitated the war in the first place.

“Bodhi,” Jyn says gently, and Bodhi comes back to himself, shakes off the hand she’s gently pressing into his arm.

“I’m only saying you blame yourself for something, you let it eat you up inside, and nothing gets better. You certainly don’t get better. And even if it _was_ your fault, which it wasn’t, feeling sorry and angry about something aren’t helping anything. They’re just making me sick. _You_ sick. Me too, though. Um. With worry.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Jyn says, smiling gently.

“Course I do.”

“I mean it. I can handle myself.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of saying that every time someone tries to help you?” It’s a genuine question, but he can tell that it isn’t extremely well received: she gets that little line in her forehead, between her eyebrows, this small vertical crease of annoyance. _Galen used to get that too._ “I only mean, it’s this defensive thing you do. Push people out of the way like we’re all the same. You’d say that to Draven. You say it to me. I’m not…not to sound too up on myself, but I think I’m in a different sort of class in Jyn-world than that prick. I only want to help you. I only want to make you feel _better_. I’m saying it doesn’t matter if you can handle yourself. I just…I want to help you so you don’t always have to.”

Jyn doesn’t stay angry for long anymore. Maybe it’s been that way for a while now. Bodhi doesn’t know. He hopes it has. He hopes it isn’t just since Cassian left, since she started acting cold and listless again, the way she had after Scarif. Before they were given their team and their freedom and a purpose.

In any case, she takes his gloved fingers in her own, small and bare.

“I’m sorry, Bodhi,” she says, which he wasn’t expecting. “I haven’t been fair to everyone lately. Especially you.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay to be hurt. I know you are. You can’t hide that from me. I’m…I’m not quite Chirrut levels of good, but I’m pretty good at reading people? And, um. I know it hurts. And I’m sorry. And I just…I know you don’t want to listen right now. Because it’s hard to listen. But it isn’t your fault. Whatever was driving him away was something else. I know I tried to tell you this before, and you didn’t want to listen. And that’s fine, but you should. I wasn’t just saying that to make you feel better. I know what I saw. And when he comes back, he’ll tell you himself.”

Jyn doesn’t hit him, which is a nice surprise. And then she sort of lurches forward and hugs him, which is even nicer. Around his waist, her head pressed into his chest, and she’s so _small,_ and Bodhi knows she could fight ten thousand more people than he can, but he still feels this protective need to keep her safe all the same.

“Thank you,” she says.

“Just…trust me,” he replies, hugging her back. He’s steadying for another argument, but she speaks and he forgets what he was going to say.

“Of course I trust you.”

He blinks. Feels that trust more deeply than he expected. Galen’s daughter. _Galen’s daughter_ , and he has to keep her safe.

“He’ll explain everything when he comes home,” he says.

* * *

_Let me take care of you for once_.

Cassian isn’t sure how long it’s been, but he knows how the Rebellion works. K-2SO might be back on Yavin by now, assuming he didn’t think he was followed. If he was, it may take a little longer, but he’ll be back on base soon enough, or he’ll find a way to send the message: the whole thing was a trap. Counselor Darra probably perished on Alderaan, as was originally assumed. The contact was either fed false information or is a willing mole; either way, they’re compromised.

If K-2SO didn’t see Cassian taken, it will be assumed that he’s dead. Assumed that he took the lullaby in the line of duty. His friends, _Jyn_ , they will receive notice of his death from Draven.

No, no. That’s painful to imagine. Draven is too indelicate. Maybe Leia will feel enough guilt that she’ll see to it herself. Maybe she’ll have some pretty words for Jyn, some assurance that she knew Cassian better than most people, that she knew what he felt. That’s a nicer way to picture it.

If K-2SO did see Raleigh, if he _did_ see Cassian’s jacket taken, he will have to report that. Cassian will not be assumed dead, but assumed under torture for information.

It’s been several days. He’s not sure of the exact number, but he knows it won’t be long now.

Draven will send someone. Thane, maybe. Maybe Kiva. Relek. One of his fellow Intelligence officers. Draven will send them to this Star Destroyer, to this cell. It will be a quiet mission, unsanctioned. Mon Mothma, Leia, the council, they’ll never hear of it.

The assassin won’t risk an extraction. They’ll shoot him. They’ll give him a pill to swallow. They’ll be gone again before anyone notices that Cassian is dead. Extraction is too risky. One person in and one person out again is easier. Cassian has done it dozens of times. It’s almost right that it should end like this for him, too.

The Rebellion needs to be protected.

It’s just a matter of time now. He won’t have to endure for much longer.

When the assassin comes for him, they’ll ask him if he has any messages he wants delivered. Any final words for the ones he left behind.

Cassian has never been one for words, but he has a little time. Maybe he can come up with something that will help them. That will help _her._ Maybe just _I’m sorry Jyn,_ or maybe _I’ve never cared for someone the way I care for you_ , or maybe _I should have kissed you on Scarif when I had the chance_. Anything that will make up for the hurt he saw in her eyes when he turned and walked away from her on Hoth. Anything that will make the thought of leaving her behind for good any easier to bear.

But all the words he bit back every time they floated to the front of his mind, all the apologies and all the whispered scraps of affection that threatened to spill past his defenses every time he spoke to her, they well up inside him. They press against his tongue and get tangled in his throat.

All he can think, all he can hear, is Bodhi’s voice, bitter and hurt, saying _just like she believed Saw Gerrera_.

And in the end, that’s what he’ll be to her. Just another disappointment. Another person who left her behind.

He doesn’t think the words exist that can convince her just how much he wishes he could stay.


End file.
